


Home Is Wherever I'm With You

by VisualSnow



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, Festival Spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No shipping here, Temporary Character Death, au tommy and tubbo leave manburg, tags to be added!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisualSnow/pseuds/VisualSnow
Summary: The world has turned its back on tommy. His country has been taken from him, his friends have turned their backs... so when the one person who matters most is threatened, he does the unthinkable.He leaves.He can lose the discs. He can lose L'manburg. But he will not let this fight take Tubbo.(AU where Tommy and Tubbo learn about the festivals true purpose, and decide to leave)
Relationships: Tommyinnit & Tubbo, wilbursoot & tommyinnit
Comments: 75
Kudos: 567





	1. Chapter one

The tunnels of Pogtopia echo with Tommy’s quick steps, dim lantern light casting flickering shadows along the walls. The anxious energy that buzzed inside him was apparent as he picked up speed, his fingers knotting into his shirt. The festival was tomorrow, and he’d spent hours watching it's preparations from afar, hoping to spot some important detail that might help him get a leg up in this mess. There was nothing really important to be learned… until he caught sight of Tubbo rushing from one of the menacing new buildings in clear distress. 

Now he crept through the tunnels, following the sounds of gentle, muffled sobs. “Tubbo?” He called out. “You in here?” 

“Tommy?” 

There’s a waver in Tubbo’s voice that makes Tommy’s heart leap to his throat. He follows a split in the tunnel, and has to keep himself from falling to his knees when he sees Tubbo huddled against the wall, crumpled in on himself. His suit, an uncomfortable echo of schlatt’s, is half off, the jacket tossed along the hallway and the tie flung into the darkness of the tunnels. 

Tommy kneels slowly, watching his friends shoulders shake as his eyes meet Tommy’s, big and round and overflowing with tears. Someone hurt Tubbo, and that makes Tommy _ furious _ . 

“Hey, hey, what’s happened?” Tommy asks gently, setting his hand on Tubbos shoulder. Maybe normally he would crack some stupid joke, lighten the heavy cloak of emotion to make the conversation a little easier, but now… he’s known Tubbo for years. He can tell when Tubbo is really, truly in distress. 

Tubbo takes a few heaving breaths, swallowing back another sob. “I-I was listening in on schlatt talking, trying to learn s-something to help you guys with the festival, and-“ he’s cut off by his own whimper. “He’s gonna  _ kill  _ me, Tommy. He’s made me plan my own execution, a-and once I'm done with my speech…” the sentence falls away into little gasping breaths, Tubbo trying so hard not to try.

The horror must be so apparent on his face, because Tubbo takes one look at Tommy and bursts into tears once more. On reflex, Tubbo is pulled towards his chest, sobs becoming muffled as he presses into Tommy. The tension held in his small frame seems to melt at the comfort, and finally Tubbo lets himself cry.

Hands shaking, Tommy does his best to run his hands through Tubbos hair in a soothing manner. He feels miles away from his body, red hot rage bubbling in his chest like lava. He wants to run from the tunnels, grab his armor and his axe, and march right up to Schlatt and  _ kill him. _

But he can’t. Tubbo needs him. And Tommy will not fail him. 

“We’re leaving.” He whispers, pulling Tubbo back enough to make eye contact. 

“But Tommy—“ 

“No Tubbo. We fought a fucking war, we bled and cried and  _ died  _ and got nothing. I’m not letting that tyrant kill you forever.” There's a steel in Tommy’s voice that he hasn't felt since the day he negotiated independence with Dream. 

“What about l’Manburg?” Tubbo asks. 

“Fuck l‘manburg! Fuck Schlatt, fuck quackity, fuck techno, fuck Wilbur, fuck em. We can get out of here. We've got everything we care about, right here.” His eyes soften a bit, shifting so he and his friend are sitting up, facing each other. “We’re just kids, Tubbo. I can’t— I can't  _ do _ this anymore. Everyone we trust has turned their backs, and I  _ can't lose you too.”  _

With a shaky breath, Tubbo nods. “Okay. Just for a little while, though. We can't abandon them, Tommy. We may have lost L’Manburg, but we can't just give up.”

Tommy can agree to that. Though he’d deny it if asked, he was scared shitless. Wilburs turned homicidal, Dream wants to help, God  _ knows  _ what techno is really up to, and Schlatt… Schlatt wanted to kill his best friend. Tommy was willing to bet he’d find some way to make it permanent, too. But despite all that, he couldn't bring himself to give up on them forever. They were his friends once, after all. 

“Okay.” Tommy agrees. “Once it's safe, we can come back. Maybe we’ll even have some help to bring back too. Sounds good, big man?” He rises right his feet, holding a hand out to help Tubbo. Tubbo grabs it gladly, standing on shaky legs. A few stray tears still shine on his cheeks, but he wipes them off, trying to look, to  _ feel  _ brave. 

“Alright Tommy.” He smiles. “Let’s start packing.” 

__________

They watch the sun rise, and set, and rise, and set, over and over, each time from another unfamiliar place. They ride until the supplies run out, swords dulling, food going bad. They walk until they can't anymore, and then they keep going until the lights of a tiny village peeks along the horizon. And once their feet hit neat cobblestone paths, they stop, and for the first time in weeks they breath without fear. 

The town barely blinks as the two strange boys integrate themselves in, building a house just on the outskirts. It starts small, one level and a few beds, but before they know it there’s a garden, and beehives, and smoke drifting from a tall chimney two stories up. Tubbo sells jars of honey in the market, and Tommy cracks jokes as he swiftly takes care of mobs and pillagers that threaten their little bit of peace. The two strange boys stop being strangers, and start being Tommy and Tubbo, the smiling young things that appeared out of nowhere.

The villagers can't help but talk, though. As kind as Tubbo is, they still see him flinch when someone laughs too loud. And Tommy may have the brightest smile as he makes terrible jokes, but people see the way he tears unto mobs a little too fiercely sometimes, eyes distant. And nobody can ignore when the night's peace is broken by a sudden scream echoing from the little cottage. Nobody can ignore the way they cling to each other like sailors lost in a storm.

Something happened to those boys, before they joined the little village. Something that makes them all wonder what lies in their past.

__________

Tommy wakes up to sunshine, which is a good sign today will be a good day, because most times he wakes up on the tail end of a nightmare. Thankfully no nightmares haunt him tonight, no ghosts of arrow wounds or ear-ringing explosions or dead friends. Instead, he wakes up with the sun, smiling when he hears Tubbos snores from the other side of the room. 

It’s market day, and Tubbo asked him to help bring the apple harvest in for sales. After nearly a year in the village, their stall has become a familiar sight at the weekly market. Tubbo boasts about having the best honey in town, and no one has the heart to tell him he sells the  _ only  _ honey in town. 

Once they’ve both woken up, and the crates of apples have been stacked next to rows of honey jars, Tommy decides to browse through the other wares while Tubbo makes conversation with the other locals. Stepping through the crowd, he lets his thoughts wander as he inspects barrels of fish and stacks of leather-bound journals. A few months ago, this would have been impossible to do. The thought of browsing a market, being greeted with a casual smile, it was a foreign concept. During the war, there was never really time for such social frivolities, and as soon as Schlatt gave him the boot his world became stone tunnels and stealth and the constant worry of betrayal. It was nice to things so  _ menial,  _ like make a garden, or buy a potato. He could even  _ rest.  _

Tommy never forgot about L’Manburg, though. Deep down, he knows someday they’ll have to return. Sometimes he even thinks about bringing it up to Tubbo, but then he sees Tubbo living, really living! Not just surviving, not hiding or spying, just being Tubbo. He can't take Tubbo back to a life of fear. And if he would be honest with himself, he doesn't want to go back to that life either. 

He’s startled from his thoughts when he hits something solid, tumbling to the ground with a thump. 

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry—“ 

Tommy takes a second to dust himself off, and stand again. “No problem man, just a bump is all.” He laughs it off. Finally he looks at the stranger who he ran into, a tall man with curly brown hair and a patched brown coat, and… 

Tommy stops, hands starting to shake just a bit as recognition hits him. 

“ _ Wilbur?” _


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT THIS FIC HAS GOTTEN SO FAR!! seriously, i'm blown away by the amount of people who like my little fic. so heres chapter two a lot earlier then planned! ya'lls comments really motivated me to finish quick!

On instinct his fingers flit to the axe strapped against his side. Tommy watches Wilbur’s eyes blow wide, his breathing stuttering with shock as he fumbles with his words.

“Oh god, Tommy I-I, we thought you were dead, where have you been?” Wilbur is shaking, looking Tommy up and down, putting together the differences since he saw him nearly a year ago. There are so  _ many. _

Tommy looks Wilbur over too, albeit less to see how different he is and more to gauge whether or not he’s in danger. The last time he saw Wilbur, he had raved about blowing his friends to pieces, his eyes shining with a murderous glee. It’s been so long, who knows what wilbur's mental state is like. Who knows if he’s even still the Wilbur Tommy knew and loved. 

“Hello Wilbur.” Tommy says. He really, truly, wishes he could be happy to see his friend again. “What are you doing here?” 

Wilbur shrugs off the question. “That’s not important man! It’s been a year Tommy, nobody’s heard from you, we thought… well, we thought you died.” 

A sigh escapes Tommy’s lips, and his shoulders slump. The tension is released, but adrenaline still rushes through him. 

“We should talk.” 

__________

Tommy leads him away, down a little path away from the market (and importantly, away from Tubbo). Wilbur seems to be filled with nervous energy, talking away uselessly, filling the space between them with chatter. Finally, Tommy stops and turns to Wilbur, his gaze blank. 

“Tell me why you're here, Wilbur.” He says, staring into the other man's eyes. Wilbur blinks, taken aback by the coldness in Tommy's voice. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, an old habit that Tommy had forgotten about during their time apart. 

“Honestly, I came to look for allies. I grew up near here, maybe a day's ride, and I thought I could find some old friends. God, I never expected to find you here.” a smile pulls at wilbur's lips. “I didn’t even connect the dots between the rumors of a talented fighter living in a nearby town.”

If not for the situation at hand, Tommy would have felt pride at the fact that there were rumors about him. He’d spent a long time practicing his fighting skills, battling dangerous mobs to stay sharp. Though it was a lot easier than fighting a war, he stayed skilled enough to protect himself. 

Unable to help himself any longer, Tommy finally asks the question that’s plagued him for a year now. “How is it?” He asks quietly. “How’s L’Manburg doing?” 

Wilburs smile falls, like a cloud rolling over the sun. “It’s… oh, Tommy, it’s gotten worse. Schlatt found out about my plan, and used it as an excuse to be even more tyrannical. I was jailed for a bit, but Dream and Techno broke me out, and since then it’s been a lot of outrunning and outlasting.” He’s quiet for a second, contemplating. “When you and Tubbo went missing, I thought he got you. All this time I thought you were really gone, Tommy.” 

Shoulders slumping, Tommy takes in this new information. He didn't know whether to be happy or sad, honestly. L’manburg had remained in one piece, but schlatt’s grip had only tightened over the country. The guilt of abandoning his friends was almost,  _ almost  _ outweighed by the knowledge that at least they were alive. 

A silence falls over the two. Tommy wants to speak, to ask wilbur more about the year that's passed, to know how changed his friend has become. But the words won't come, stuck in his throat, only letting shallow breathing past. Finally, Wilbur meets tommys eyes.

“What happened, tommy? Why… why didn't you come back?” 

A voice echoing through the woods saves Tommy from having to answer, though the relief doesn't last long.

“Tommy? Are you out here?” Tubbo’s voice rings out. Wilburs head shoots up, a wide grin flashing on his face. 

“Is that Tubbo?” he asks with glee, turning towards the direction they had come from a few minutes before. “You should have told me Tommy, I can't believe-!”

He’d taken a few steps forwards, but before he could blink tommys hand shot out to grab him, stopping him in place. Wilbur has to fight the instinct to lash out at the hand stopping him, reminding himself that it's  _ tommy,  _ tommy is fine, tommy can touch him. 

Once Tommy sees Wilbur stop, he lets go, placing a space between them once again. “Sorry,” he breathes out, “it's just, well, I don't want to startle him. And you suddenly appearing from the bushes isn't exactly a normal occurrence.”

Wilbur nods. “I understand,” he says, relaxing his stance again. “Who knows what you two have gone through without me.”

Tommy has to hold himself back from saying “a lot”. Instead, he shrugs. “Listen Wilbur, I need to go back home. Tubbos is obviously looking for me, and he gets worried if I'm gone too long. But meet me by the edge of town tomorrow at dawn and we can talk more, alright?”

“Alright,” wilbur sighs. The more Tommy looks at him, the more tired he looks. There are shadows pressed under his eyes, scars that weren't there the last time they saw each other. How much has Tommy missed? 

“I'll go, but know this,” wilbur continues, his tone growing just a bit colder. “When i see you again, you have a  _ lot  _ of explaining to do.”

And then, he's gone, leaving Tommy alone with the quiet forest. 

He knows he has to go find tubbo. He  _ knows  _ that his feet should be moving back towards the market, or back to their home, or anywhere but here. Instead, Tommy stands there, chest constricting with fear. 

_ It's finally happened,  _ he thinks to himself.  _ The wars finally caught up to us.  _

He’d known it was inevitable, that they couldn't hide forever. He'd just thought they'd have a choice as to when they got dragged back in. 

A few minutes pass, and finally Tommy can gather himself back up. Though there's no stopping the shake of his hands, but at least he can breathe again. Finally presentable, he backtracks towards town, relief filling him at the sight of tubbo wandering the forest's edge. 

“There you are!” tubbo cries once he catches sight of tommy. “Where'd you run off to this time?”

Tommy can't help but smile at the sight of his friend. “That's no matter. How's the market been going? Any good sales?” 

The swift topic change either goes unnoticed, or tubbo can tell tommy really doesn't want to address it, because he launches into a recounting of the past hour. As best as he can, Tommy listens, nodding and smiling. The honey sold well so far, half the stock gone in such a short amount of time. 

“And i traded a couple crates of apples for some sugar and wheat, which means i can make a cake soon!” tubbo continues, waving his hands with excitement as they near the booth. “That reminds me, steak or fish for dinner?” 

“Fish,” Tommy replies distantly. Watching tubbo talk was supposed to have distracted him from wilburs sudden appearance. Instead, all he can think about is how soon, all of this will be going away. No more quiet house, or garden, or beehives, or sunlit mornings laced with calm. This was the beginning of the end. 

“Tommy, did you hear me?” tubbo pokes his shoulder gently, bringing him back to the present. “You alright?” 

Now he's went and made Tubbo worried. Quickly brushing it off, Tommy throws on a grin. “I'm fine big T, just dreaming of the fantastic pastries you'll be making soon. Anyways, back to the grind, yeah?” He takes a seat behind the booth, nodding at passersby, hoping his warmth is convincing. 

Tubbo lets it be. He knows Tommy, and knows something is deeply wrong, but as worried as he is nothing will be solved through prying. He trusts Tommy to tell him, in his own time. 

__________

That night, Tommy climbs to the small platform they'd built on the roof, high above the sleepy town. The stars blink and dance before him, cold night air turning his breath to steam. It's a beautiful night, marred only by the gloom that seemed to hang off Tommy like a shroud. Tomorrow, he'd sneak out as dawn breaks to meet with wilbur. From there… he didn't know what. Sleep was impossible, the churning anxiety in his gut keeping him wide awake.

It reminded him of their war for independence. The four of them had spent many nights awake and sleepless, wondering if Dream would appear from the shadows to end their rebellion. Sleepless nights made for more planning, and more sparring, and more farming. Soon, very few hours of sleep a night had become normal. It was almost comforting, knowing there were fewer hours in the day wasted on  _ sleep.  _

The creak of a hatch door behind him signals Tubbo’s arrival, one he'd been expecting. “I brought tea,” tubbo says, sitting down next to tommy with his legs dangling off the platform. “Do you want to talk about it now?” 

Tommy breathes in the scent of warm lavender and chamomile, taking the mug in his hands. 

“Do you like living here, tubbo?” he asks. 

“What's brought this on?”

Tommy shrugs. 

“Of course I do,” tubbo says, after a second to think. “It's quiet, and we have each other, and everyones treated us so kindly. But…”

Tommys head perks up a bit. “But?” 

Shaking his head, tubbo sighs. “I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm just pretending, going through the motions of another person's life. Like I wasn't meant to be  _ this  _ happy.” he takes a sip from the warm mug. “I guess thats sounds strange, huh?”

“No,” Tommy says, barely a whisper. “Not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed chapter two! special thanks to everyone who commented last chapter and motivated me to finish this one early! comments really help me improve my work, so if you like this fic consider dropping one below!!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello readers!! thank you guys for all the kind comments left on last chapter! i really hope you like this chapter!

Metal hits metal as Technoblade sharpens his sword, lounging in the corner of the makeshift shelter that had been set up. He would much prefer a cheap room in town, but Wilbur insisted they camp in the woods. He was so paranoid, even miles away from the old goat that calls himself president. It is what it is though, and technoblade is content to wait behind while wilbur looks into rumors of some talented fighter, and see if he can sway them to their side. At least he gets some peace and quiet for the time being.

Somehow, that quiet continues even as wilbur returns from his little mission. 

“So,” techno straightens from his seat, taking a look at wilbur. “How’d it go?” 

Wilbur looks… shaken. Which is common for him, but something tells techno that wilbur has been set off-center by something other than a mob attack. Still, he says nothing, waiting for a reply. 

For a second, wilbur just  _ stands _ there, eyes blinking rapidly. The way his head darts around, hands twitching, it's like he’s having a conversation with himself. He could at  _ least  _ invite techno. 

Finally, Wilbur speaks. “I'm going back at dawn. I found something…interesting”

“Interesting like a moobloom, or interesting ike a weapon of mass destruction?” 

Wilburs squints his eyes. “Both.” he says after a second. 

Technoblade sets down the sword, and picks up a few arrows that need fletching. “Oh, joy. Want me to come with this time?” 

Almost aggressively, wilbur shakes his head. “I can handle it.”

Techno  _ really  _ doesn't care enough to argue. 

__________

_ His feet take a few shaking steps on the wooden bridge, legs as weak as a new fawn. Fingers grip the bow in his hand, maybe a little too tight, but it's all he can do to stop the tremors. He isn't scared. He will win this duel, and they'll return home independent and victorious. Wilbur will be so proud of him.  _

_ One, two, three.  _

_ His back is turned now, and he does his best to hold his chin high. Every sound is dampened by the blood that rushes through his ears, but he pays it no mind. All he has to do is aim. All he has to do is win.  _

_ Four, five, six.  _

_ He doesn't dare look at the people just barely out of his line of sight. Concentration is coming hard enough, and seeing tubbo trying to be brave for him would melt the facade. The only face he can think of is a crude smile painted onto neatly carved bone.  _

_ Seven, eight, nine.  _

_ Time slows as he positions his foot, ready to spin around. His bowstring is taut, ready to find it's mark. All he can do now is take a deep breath in.  _

_ Ten paces.  _

_ Fire. _

Tommy jolts forwards, chest heaving as he rips himself from the nightmare. A few seconds stutter by as he focuses on grounding himself, reminding himself that the war is done, he is safe, and there is no one out to get him. Panicked breaths slow, evening out, and Tommy can open his tightly shut eyes to the rising sun. 

Sleeping on the roof was a bad idea. Sleeping, in general, was a bad idea, but especially flopped onto a wooden post. Now his muscles are sore, and his neck has an ache from the odd angle he had slumped into. Groaning, tommy stretched, listening for any signs that tubbo had woken up. Satisfied after a few seconds of careful listening, Tommy crept down the ladder and into the house below. 

His bag isn't hard to pack. A few strips of cooked meat, a loaf of bread, his freshly sharpened axe, and a bow slung across his back with the quiver hanging at his thigh. He eyes the chest in the corner of the room, the one that was rarely opened. Inside were the things they couldn't bear to part with, but couldn't bring themselves to use; dreams crossbow, a few papers tubbo had grabbed on his way out of marburg, and two sets of netherite armor. Should he? 

No, no he will  _ not.  _ This is wilbur after all, not some monster. Wilbur was a good person,  _ is  _ a good person, and there's no need to over prepare. Tommy will be just fine in his normal iron chestplate he wears every day. 

Finally, as the sun really begins to make itself known, Tommy was ready to go. Only one thing remained before he would push himself out the door. Carefully, he made his way into his and tubbo’s shared room, tip-toeing over to his bed. There was no doubt in his mind that he was already attuned, but it had become a habit to check. He hovered his hand a few inches from the wooden frame, little runes carved into the posts. As he breathed in, concentrating, the runes began to glow, black crystals set into the wood making a purple light. It took only seconds, but it eased his mind knowing if anything happened he would at least end up home. 

With no other excuses to keep him from leaving, Tommy took one last look at his sleepy little house, and started off down the path leading to town. 

__________

There's no such thing as being too early. At least, that’s what Wilbur tells himself as he nears hour two of waiting in the dark for tommy. Sure, dawn is only just breaking, but what else was he supposed to do? Sleep? No, that's out of the question, especially when he needs time to think. Now that the sun had started to peek through the trees, he had very little time left. Tommy will be here soon. 

Tommy. Tommy, alive, and not only that, but  _ happy.  _ It's more than Wilbur could have ever hoped for. And he had hoped, and prayed, even while wasting away in a prison cell, even while fighting for his life. Wilbur never could believe Tommy and Tubbo were really gone. And now that they were here, within grasp, he just had to figure out what had happened in the time in between. 

Not to mention how to tell them what happened in their absence. Not only the mourning that had been done, but the war, manburg, schlatt… and nikki. He didn't want to break the news about nikki, not so soon, but to keep it from them would be cruel. They had a right to know. 

Dawn has risen, and with it rose wilburs anxiety. All that time spent pacing, and his thoughts still ran wild. As hard as he tried, there was really no planning a conversation like this. All that he could do was face this head on and hope it would be okay in the end. 

Quiet footsteps alerted him to someone's approach, footsteps that (still, after  _ all this time _ ) were familiar. Soon, Tommy came into view, and wilbur’s breath stalled in his chest. Even with the changes a year had made, the sight of him brought wilbur back to simpler times. Or times that were complicated in a different way. They both take a second to adjust to each other's presence, to linger a bit, before Wilbur finally speaks. 

“I know you must have questions for me,” he begins, “and I'm happy to answer them. But I have questions of my own. I'll let you choose what comes first; ask, or answer?” 

The last thing he wanted to do was scare Tommy off, so he figured giving  _ him  _ the control was the best course of action. Evidently this works, because Tommy relaxes just a touch. 

As Tommy opens his mouth to speak, no doubt to ask something Wilbur has dreaded answering, he stops, head twitching. The tension he’d just released in back, and he spins around to the direction he just came. 

“Tommy?” Wilbur asks quietly. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Tommy doesn’to answer as he takes a few steps forwards, into the bushes that surrounded them. Hesitantly Wilbur tries to follow, but falters when he hears  _ two  _ voices whispering in the leaves. 

Slowly, he peaks past the branches to find Tommy no longer alone. Instead there are now two teenage boys awkwardly tucked into the foliage, and Wilbur looks at them with utter confusion as they whisper-shout at each other for just a second before, finally, tubbo turns and spots Wilbur. 

  
Tubbo’s mouth drops open. Wilbur feels the situation grow even more awkward than he expected. And Tommy is not pleased at  _ any  _ of this in the slightest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all
> 
> IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER MY FRIENDS YOULL GET ANSWERS SOON I PROMISE
> 
> second!
> 
> there was some worldbuilding this chapter that ill be explaining more in the next! next chapter will answer a lot of questions and expand on some stuff you may have been wondering about. but if you have any questions let me know in the comments and ill try my best to answer them either in a reply or in the next chapter!
> 
> i love all of you and thank you for reading my fic! pls consider leaving a comment or kudos!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! pls consider leaving a kudos or comment if you enjoyed this fic (or if you didnt, help me improve by letting me know!)


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